


Growing Pains

by arlesanna



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-25 00:38:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6173107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arlesanna/pseuds/arlesanna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A seemingly perfect day in Alexandria has Carol on edge and things heat up over dinner. A light and funny (i hope!) Caryl romance story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. PROLOGUE

That day was one of the best ones. It seemed like a day straight out of “before” - one of the rare days everything worked out, good surprises came their way and everyone was happy. Carol hated that day.

It started with great news of two newcomers to Alexandria – Anna and Claire. Daryl came across two young women just in time - one of Neagan’s guy’s gun was already pointed at them and their future didn’t seem too bright, but a bolt to the head remedied the situation.

On top of the joy caused by the newcomers there was the matter of food – the day before Rick and the others brought home a truck fool of treasures – from livestock to vegetables, eggs and whatnot. Carol promised them a dinner on a whim and today she had to face the music.

Normally she quite enjoyed cooking – it helped her get her mind off things, and lately there were too many things threatening her sanity so a distraction was welcome on a daily basis. It was also something she was good at and a nice way to play her role in caring for the group. The only problem was that that role didn’t fit her anymore - it was perfect when they had lived at the prison, but too many things changed since and right now she was more of a deadly weapon then a motherly figure. She knew that. Her people knew that. The people of Alexandria had no idea.

The transformation that happened to her was a bit too much to take in – from a victim to a predator she went faster then humanly possible and the growing pains were brutal. So some cooking once in a while helped sooth it. But not today.

 

 


	2. MORNING

The only good thing about the day was the morning. She had slept in. Irresponsibly. She woke up and she knew she’d been irresponsible and it filled her whole body with lightness. “Irresponsible.” She whispered, loving the word on her tongue and giggled. It was stupid, truly it was, but It was her just... being. She’d turned into this whole new person in her journey to survive, but that new person had yet to discover who she was when not running, not fighting, not watching over her back. The times she got to enjoy just being were rare, often weighed down by the knowledge of what she’d done and knowing she’d never be truly at peace with it. So those extinct moments were as precious to her as they were fleeting.

The newcomers were already in Alexandria when she got up and was ready to face the day – Daryl and Andrew found them pretty early and took them back to the town, staying themselves as going on another run was off the table with all the joy from the arrival of two pretty girls and the impending festive dinner.

By the time she found him nestled in the corner on the floor of their houses’s porch, half-hidden in the shadow and working on his bolts, she’d already heard the story of the miracle rescue a couple of times and she knew he wasn’t getting out of this one.

“Heard you’re the hero of the day.” She purred, her lips forming a sly hint of a smile.His feline eyes glinted from under his overgrown bangs as he fixed her with a stare. An outsider would believe him angry but Carol knew better. “The saviour of not one, but two damsels in distress. A knight with a shining crossbow” she went on, basking in the glory of her teasing, the corners of her mouth contorted with pleasure.

“I did alright” He grumbled good-heartedly, setting the bolt aside and throwing his head back against the wooden wall, his eyes full of mischief.

She giggled silly then and lifted her face up to the sun that was shining without a care, like it had no idea what kind of world it was shining upon. His gaze turned wistful but she never saw that happen, her eyes firmly shut against the sun.

“Here.” His voice was suddenly too close and she opened her eyes lazily. “Got this for ya.” He pushed a chocolate bar in her hands and leant on the railing next to Carol, looking straight ahead onto the street and not at all at her.

She chucked “For the cookies?” and nudged him slightly with her shoulder.

He bristled a bit then, annoyed by the fact she’d suggest he cared about the stupid cookies or her role of a stupid cookie maker. “I said for ya. Are ya a cookie?”

He walked right into that one as she squinted playfully at him: “I could be for you, Pookie.”  

“Shut up and eat the damn thing.” He stumbled off the porch gracefully in the Daryl way she’d grown to adore. He had turned into a man, raw and untamed, hard and somehow sure. Sure of his place, of his choices, of his family. But when he swore under his breath and went back up onto the porch to get his forgotten bow there was the boyishness in it that melted her heart like a chocolate in the sun.

“Thank you!” She called after his retreating form and she was sure he’d mumbled “Ain’t nothing” even if she didn’t hear it.

It was a good morning.

 


	3. AFTERNOON

It all went downhill in the afternoon. 

One of her new fake housewife friends Lola came over and asked her to join them for a tea with the newcomers. Carol thought it would be wise to go and check the girls out: the general opinion was that they were no threat, but she knew just how easy it was to underestimate a woman in this new world. They were alone together when Daryl found them and they had somehow survived – meant they were made out of steel not marshmallows and anyone who didn't get it was an idiot. So she went – she had to, she had a job to watch over her people. 

Once at Lola’s place she was introduced to Anna and Claire and some tea. As they exchanged pleasantries she checked the women out. Both in their late twenties – early thirties. Anna was shorter and looked stronger of the two, her body compact and lean, her moves measured and smooth. Carol imagined she’d be quick on her feet and good in combat. Probably good with a knife. She was wearing tight black pants and a top that hid nothing and went well with her tanned complexion and raven hair. Couldn’t have been too safe travelling in that attire, practical but too sexy, the Neagan man’s attack only confirmed that. Claire was a tall lean redhead, her face still held traces of childish naiveté, but her hazel eyes were deep and sad. Carol thought her eyes looked just just like ones of those deers Daryl chased after day and night. The thought was somehow disturbing. 

“So, Carol,” Anna started and set her teacup on the table. “You are from that outsider group that joined Alexandria and saved everyone’s asses?” Carol figured that between the two girls this one did all the talking – the redhead was just sitting there, staring at her with her doe eyes, but her body language betrayed her immediate interest. 

“Yes.” She offered a warm smile and elaborated, shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly “But I am more on the household side. No big cool battle stories from me.”

“That’s not what I was getting at,” Anna said. “So… You know Daryl well?”

“I suppose so.” Carol made sure her smile was still warm and played the surprise up a bit, even though her insides clenched with the dread of imminent girl talk.

“They all say he’s a wild cat.” Anna smirked and studied the mask Carol held carefully in place. “Comes and goes and all.”

“Anna!” the redhead, Claire, finally spoke up. “Stop it!” she shifted uncomfortably in her chair, shooting daggers at her friend.

“Why, I’m just asking!” Anna stared on into Carol’s eyes. “So is it true?”

Carol found  herself repeating her “I suppose so.” From before. “May I ask why the interest?” She asked sweetly and the whole roomful of women giggled.

“Well he did save us.” Anna sighed. “And then this one,” She motioned to Claire, “got all dreamy and big-eyed and…”

“Shut up, A!” the other girl covered her face, blushing a deep shade of red that only redheads had the misfortune to possess. 

“It’s ok, honey,” Lola’s voice was dripping with honey as she reached out to pat the girl’s knee. “Dark and brooding and mysterious – we’ve all been there. Nothing to be ashamed of.”

Carol almost felt bad for the red-faced girl. Almost. Not quite. And then Anna spoke up again.

“So mainly I was wondering whether you know if he’s shagging someone or like has a girlfriend?” Carol stared at the girl dumbly, trying to get it in her head that she was really in the middle of that conversation while being in the middle of zombie apocalypse. “Or a boyfriend?” Anna offered helpfully. “You never know nowadays…”

“Er…” Carol worried that her warm fake smile would not hold, but it seemed to be firmly in place. “We’re not that close and he is very private so I’m afraid I can’t help you.” Faced with three disappointed stares she shrugged: “I mostly just cook and do laundry and run when I have to. And he’s mostly off. So I’m not a good spy in this case.”

“But you don’t know of anything like that, do ya?” Anna pushed.

“No.” Carol offered another weak smile, hating herself for it. She wished she told them he way gay and going Morgan. Or Rick. Or anyone really. But it was too late.

“See!” Anna beamed and clapped Claire’s shoulder. “Told ya he’s available.”

Claire looked up, defeated. “Thanks, I guess. It’s not like he’s available to me you know.”

“Shut up, he carried you half the way here. A man doesn't do that unless he wants to get a feel.” Carol felt her breath catch in her throat.

“Or unless you can’t walk on a sprained ankle like me!” Claire protested stretching out her leg that did look swollen.   
Anna sighed “Stop pretending like you’re not interested.”

“I didn’t say that.” Claire mumbled and the silence fell over the room.

“So.” Lola was clearly enjoying the gossip. “How do we go about taming the wild cat?” Carol had to physically stop herself from rolling her eyes when Lola went on. “Carol, why don’t you invite the girls over for dinner at your place? He saved them and you are friends now so it wouldn’t be suspicious.”

Anna nodded enthusiastically “And we could sit Claire next to him. And you could work it from there.”

Claire looked very embarrassed, but her doe eyes settled on Carol with hope.

“I… I don’t know, we kind of have a festive dinner tonight…” she mused. “But hey, even better.” She finished with a fake enthusiasm knowing there was no way out of this one. 

“Great, we’ll come over then!” Anna smiled at Carol and Claire. 

“Thank you.” Claire said shyly and added: “We should really get some rest before then, it’s been a rough couple of weeks.”

“Sure, I should get going.” Carol all but jumped up from her chair. “Time to start on that dinner.” 

She swore under her breath all the way back from Lola’s house. This was ridiculous and stupid and for some reason the thought that she could actually enjoy Daryl’s suffering at dinner didn’t cross her mind once.

 


	4. Afternoon cont'd

She slammed the door behind her much more forcefully then she should have. Fucking dinner, she groaned internally at the thought of cooking it right now. The cheerful sounds coming from the kitchen did nothing to lighten her mood.

“Fair is fair!” Michonne’s voice was smug as Carol entered the kitchen to find both her and Carl. Fighting. Over the chocolate. Her chocolate. What was left of it. Carol felt the hairs at the back of her neck stand up in indignation. 

“Here. Carol gets the rest.” Carl laughed and outstretched the remaining chocolate her way. “We found it here.” he explained and his stained lips and happy eyes sent her into silent fury. It was her chocolate. Hers. For the first time in weeks she was going to just enjoy it herself and they just went in and… 

“Thanks Carl, I’m good.” She smiled sweetly and moved for the back door. Once outside she took a deep and shaky breath.

No point to get worked up over a chocolate really, let the kid and Michonne enjoy it. It was just that this day was getting overwhelming with people taking what’s hers. Or thinking of taking what’s hers. Not that Daryl was hers. The chocolate definitely was though. Shouldn’t have left it laying around in the kitchen unwanted and unclaimed. Her own fault somebody else snatched it while she wasn’t there. She shivered at the transcendency of the thought.


	5. Late afternoon

Carol finally put the casserole in the oven, setting the timer for 20 minutes. On to salads now. The abundance of ingredients called for a variety of dishes - that was what the dinner was about and that was what was getting her worked up all over again - she had to cook five times more then usual and she was all by herself because of course she had had to refute the offer for help earlier. Mostly because it was Michonne who offered and the chocolate thing still stung. 

“Looks like you need a hand in there.” A familiar voice sent her anger spiralling upwards when it seemed it had nowhere to go. The last thing she wanted right now was to be stuck in a small space with Morgan and a kitchen knife. That could turn ugly really quick. 

“I’m perfectly fine and I’d strongly advise you to keep away from me and sharp objects especially when we come as a package.” She offered in a sweet voice, happy, that at least she could be herself around him - he’d seen enough to know her face value. 

Morgan considered her words carefully and stepped up to the table anyway. “Could we talk if I promise to stay this side of the room and chop whatever needs chopping?”

The choice between having to endure his presence and having to chop everything herself was a tough one, but Carol already figured this day couldn’t get much worse. 

“As long as it’s a short talk and you chop all of these.” 

He nodded gingerly and reached for the knife. “Love to cook.” He mused, setting about his task, “always did.”

She ignored him and went about her own chopping. The silence was deafening when he suddenly put his knife down and reached for her hand. “Carol, I…” he started as she froze, looking at his fingers on her wrist and fighting the urge to chop his arm off. “I just wanted to…” 

Carol’s eyes widened as she took in a shadow moving in from the living room. Of course it was him.

“Ain’t doing nothing, thought you’d need a hand” Daryl’s low voice resonated with her brain causing her an instant headache at the thought of how it all looked. “Guess too late for that.” He muttered catching sight of their joint hands and heading straight for the back door. Morgan released her wrist instantly, but she only cared for the retreating back in the worn leather vest. Carol almost wanted to smile remembering she shot through the kitchen the exact same way when she caught Michonne and Carl redhanded with the chocolate.

She tried to save the situation with a cheeky “A threesome is always on the table you know” aimed at his back, knowing he’d just walk on, but he surprised her.

His hand was already on the handle when he slowly turned, measuring her from head to toe, his eyes steady and none of the familiar looking at his feet going on. “Ain’t much for sharing,” he uttered and added, looking at Morgan’s shocked expression: “no offence, man.” The next thing she knew he was out the door.

Carol Peletier was standing in the middle of the kitchen full of sunlight and couldn’t believe that Daryl Dixon had for once returned on of her suggestive puns right back at her. It made her feel warm and tingly all over but at the same time she felt she was losing her footing. That was the moment she knew he was not the guy from inside the prison walls. This new Daryl was exiting and dangerous and relatively unknown. It was funny how in this new world even your closest friend could turn into some kind of unnerving stranger over the course of a few months. 

“Chop on.” She said to Morgan who was still watching her quietly and left the kitchen. There was 15 minutes left on that timer and damn it she was not going to waste the time.

 


End file.
